Split like a Watermelon
A Voyage Through Dissonant Minds
I split myself, like a watermelon,
my mind cracked into fragments,
like one who cleaves the juice of life
into silent, slow halves.
I dissociated
in the frantic rhythm
of this world:
Sunrise to dusk,
tick to tock,
breath by breath.
From your window, I see mirages,
from your pulse, I feel mine falter,
from your dopamine, the abyss,
of my cold laughter, unexpected, without reason or place.
The neighborhood is no longer the same,
since you left,
since you deserted me,
the streets have turned unpredictable,
and the lights, delusions of neon
that do not know how to cease.
I take refuge in the bets,
I escape with a tearful TV series,
scenes I repeat, dialogues I murmur,
as if they could fill this void
of us not having you, of absurd waiting.